Sometimes...

Sometimes, I dream or think of my second wife, who passed away on her 21st birthday from a massive brain aneurysm, leaving our 10 month old daughter without a mother.  I do this frequently and often.  It happened in 1973 and still hurts beyond belief.


Today for example is our daughters 39th birthday.  I have not seen or heard from her in 32 years.  I believe she is well, but that is all I know.  You see, I let her mother's parents adopt her at age 7, because it seemed for the best, at the time!  Sometimes I regret doing this, sometimes I wonder what my life would have been like if I had not.  Sometimes.


Sometimes I remember vividly the day of my wife's death and all that happened...some years I don't think of it at all, or perhaps just block it out.  Sometimes, like the other night, I remember my wife's laughter and her nickname for me... "Bear".  I think of what we did and where we where, our hopes and our dreams...how excited she was to have a daughter and the joy she shared.  Sometimes.

Sometimes I am almost paralysed with grief and just cry...even after all this time.  I remember people, meaning well, said time would cure all things...but they lied.  Sometimes, I miss her so much it hurts.  Sometimes.